Emmanuel rested his head on his forearm. The absence of pain was pure joy. He felt better than fine. The fistful of codeine the doctor had pushed down his throat was working. The demented sergeant major's voice was crushed into silence and happiness was five minutes' sleep away.

The door to the interview room opened. Emmanuel sat up.

'Major.' He greeted van Niekerk with a nod.

The major was in full uniform: the pleats of his trousers and jacket ironed to a razor's edge. A subtle floral scent mixed with whisky lingered on his person. No surprise as to how the perfume had been transferred to van Niekerk's skin.

'Sit down, Cooper.' The major held the door open for a second man who entered the room carrying a dented blue toolbox. The newcomer, pale-haired and pale-skinned, mid-thirties, sat in the corner. Emmanuel waited for an introduction. None came. Van Niekerk closed the door. What was the major doing in the interview room with a man who wore a suit and carried a toolbox?

'They've got you on three counts, Cooper,' the major said. 'There's enough evidence to make the charges stick. Plus the fact that you were caught, literally, red-handed.'

'I know.'

'Are you going to answer my questions truthfully?' The ghostly man in the corner spoke for the first time. Emmanuel glanced at him. He hadn't moved an inch.

'I'll answer,' Emmanuel said.

'You knew Jolly Marks?'

'Not well. He worked the freight yards and the passenger terminal. Ran errands. I knew him by sight.'

'You were at the yards the night before last?' The pale man's voice was emotionless and, like his skin, leached of colour.

'I was in the yards.'

'Doing what?'

Emmanuel hesitated. The major didn't mean for him to answer that question truthfully, did he? There was nothing illegal about observing corrupt police conducting their business. Hiring an ex-detective to record proof was in another league, however.

'I get bad headaches. I went to the docks to buy hashish. It helps me sleep.'

A flicker of emotion crossed the major's face. Relief? Emmanuel couldn't tell. The man in the corner shifted position but stayed put.

'How did you get Jolly's notebook?' the major said.

'From the freight yard.' Emmanuel kept the Dutta family out of it. Amal especially. The young man's only sin was having a stupid older brother. 'It was in the alleyway near the body.'

The major nodded. 'Did you kill the boy, Cooper?'

'No. He was dead when I found him.'

'Like the landlady and the maid?'

'Yes.'

'Hard to believe.'

'The truth often is.'

The man in the corner walked towards the table, leaving the toolbox behind, and Emmanuel's skin tingled with relief. The toolbox shut and out of reach seemed like a good thing. The man's clean fingernails and unwrinkled black suit confirmed he was not a tradesman in the traditional sense. Emmanuel suspected he knew how to break and fix things: none of them domestic.

'You lied about what you were doing at the docks.' The accent was South African with an undertone of English public school. A colonial boy sent back to the motherland for an education in bad food and bullying. His eyes were an indeterminate colour, like pieces of quartz lit by an unknown source. 'Major van Niekerk has already confirmed that you were doing private work for him. Surveillance.'

Emmanuel shifted under the scrutiny. Why would van Niekerk confirm anything unless he'd been forced to? The thought was disturbing. It was nearly impossible to get the jump on the old fox.

'I've worked for the major before,' Emmanuel said. And, like so many who'd served under van Niekerk, Emmanuel thought him arrogant, even ruthless. But it wasn't his job to bring the major down. His conscience was already burdened by three murders and the fact that he somehow connected them. Best let van Niekerk go to hell without help. 'Night before last was private business. The major knew nothing about it.'

'Are you calling the major a liar?'

'No. I'm saying I lied to the major.'

The tradesman smiled at van Niekerk. 'He'll do nicely,' he said.

'I never doubted it,' van Niekerk said.

Van Niekerk and the pale man were visibly relaxed, pleased even. It seemed Emmanuel had passed a test they'd set for him with a mix of lies and discretion.

'Will getting out be a problem?' the tradesman said.

'It won't be comfortable.' Van Niekerk cast a glance at the interview-room door. 'My men will keep it under control but we have to move quickly.'

'Where are we going?' Emmanuel said.

'Out of the station,' van Niekerk said. 'There's a car waiting for us at the front.'

'I'm free?'

'No.' The tradesman collected the toolbox and placed it on the table. His alabaster hands rested lightly on the dented surface. 'You're being transferred from police custody into my custody.'

'And you are?'

'The only one who can keep you off death row.'

'Why would you want to do that?' Emmanuel needed to know the price of his freedom. Walking away from three counts of murder did not come cheap.

'Because you didn't kill the landlady or the maid, at least not with the knives they have in evidence.'

'And Jolly?'

'Jolly was killed by the same person who killed the two women. You didn't kill the women, therefore you didn't kill the boy.'

The station detectives and the arresting policemen would not agree with the tradesman's conclusion. They'd be furious when they learned their suspect had been released.

'Exactly what am I going to do once I'm in your custody?' Emmanuel asked.

'Investigate Jolly Marks's murder,' came the tradesman's deadpan reply.

'And Mrs Patterson and her maid. What about them?'

'Clear Jolly's murder from the board first,' the tradesman said. 'Concentrate your resources on one investigation at a time.'

'I'm the prime suspect in all three murders. How's that going to work?'

'Your investigation will run parallel with that of the regular force,' the major explained smoothly. 'You'll report direct to me.'

'Or stay here and wait for the fingerprint results on the torch that was found in the alley to come back from Pretoria.' The tradesman picked up the metal box and moved to the door. 'They can do that now, you know. Lift prints from objects with a powder. It's a world first, developed right here in South Africa.'

The bloodstains on Emmanuel's fingertips made the whorls and ridges stand out like contours on a map. He'd left clear prints on the torch and on the lip of the landlady's porcelain sink. The results might take months to come back, but when they did he was going to swing.

'What will it be, Cooper?' the major said.

Emmanuel stood up and went to the door. The murders of Jolly Marks and Mbali the maid were identical in style and execution. He wouldn't find the connection between the two victims from a jail cell.

'We'll leave those on until we've exited the station.' Van Niekerk indicated the handcuffs. 'Keep your head down, do not make eye contact and keep walking. I'll deal with the flak.'

Olive drab police uniform pants, polished black boots and plain cotton trousers crowded the edges of Emmanuel's vision. He kept his head down. A low murmur accompanied their speedy exit from the station house.

'Pig... murderer... special favours... bastard... fucking disgrace . . .'

A filthy, blood-covered criminal walks to freedom: Emmanuel knew how it looked. Knew how it felt, too, when a guilty party slipped the net and cheated the law. It made good policemen want to do bad things.

They emerged onto the street. A gob of spit hit the pavement in front of him. Emmanuel looked up. The stuttering constable with the injured nose sneered. Fletcher balled his hands into fists.

'If we meet again,' the detective constable warned, 'I'll make sure it's your own blood you're covered in.'

They kept moving. Emmanuel glanced over his shoulder. Twelve or so policemen now stood on the station steps and watched the killer go. Anger and frustration bound them together. If this special investigation was running parallel with the regular force, as van Niekerk had said, the men on the stairs knew nothing about it.

'Popular move,' Emmanuel said when they stopped at a gold-leaf Chevrolet Deluxe with its motor chugging.

'You'll be working alone,' the major said.